who am I to judge
the way you run away;
you find the same escape,
just in a different way.

you drink until you're lost at sea,
a broken glass on the beach,
when someone tries to pick you up,
your rigged edges scare them off;
can't show others who you are
unless you're unaware of yourself.

she cuts herself open
just to spill it all out;
tries to bandage it up;
she's so scared of herself.

who am I to judge the way you escape?
we're all drowning in waters blocked off with caution tape;
'cause the ocean floor doesn't exist
until you try to place your feet down,
and don't feel the ground.

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